On the Border with Crook

by John Gregory Bourke

We had reached the eastern extremity of the plateau, and could see the Bradshaw and other ranges to the west and south, and the sky-piercing cone of the San Francisco to the northwest, but were afraid to trust ourselves in the dark and forbidding mass of brakes and cañons of great depth which filled the country immediately in our front. It was the vicinity of the Fossil Creek cañon, some fifteen hundred to two thousand feet deep, which we deemed it best to avoid, although had we known it we might have crossed in safety by an excellent, although precipitous, trail. Our only guide was Archie Macintosh, who belonged up in the Hudson’s Bay Company’s territory, and was totally unacquainted with Arizona, but a wonderful man in any country. He and General Crook and Tom Moore conferred together, and concluded it was best to strike due north and head all the cañons spoken of. This we did, but the result was no improvement, as we got into the Clear Creek cañon, which is one of the deepest and most beautiful to look upon in all the Southwest, but one very hard upon all who must descend and ascend. When we descended we found plenty of cold, clear water, and the banks of the stream lined with the wild hop, which loaded the atmosphere with a heavy perfume of lupulin.

Still heading due north, we struck the cañon of Beaver Creek, and were compelled to march along its vertical walls of basalt, unable to reach the water in the tiny, entrancing rivulet below, but at last ran in upon the wagon-road from the Little Colorado to Camp Verde. We were getting rapidly down from the summit of the Mogollon, and entering a country exactly similar to that of the major portion of Southern Arizona. There was the same vegetation of yucca, mescal, nopal, Spanish bayonet, giant cactus, palo verde, hediondilla, mesquite, and sage-brush, laden with the dust of summer, but there was also a considerable sprinkling of the cedar, scrub-pine, scrub-oak, madroño, or mountain mahogany, and some little mulberry.

Near this trail there are to be seen several archæological curiosities worthy of a visit from the students of any part of the world. There is the wonderful “Montezuma’s Well,” a lakelet of eighty or ninety feet in depth, situated in the centre of a subsidence of rock, in which is a cave once inhabited by a prehistoric people, while around the circumference of the pool itself are the cliff-dwellings, of which so many examples are to be encountered in the vicinity. One of these cliff-dwellings, in excellent preservation when I last visited it, is the six-story house of stone on the Beaver Creek, which issues from the cave at Montezuma’s Wells, and flows into the Verde River, near the post of the same name. We came upon the trails of scouting parties descending the Mogollon, and learned soon after that they had been made by the commands of Lieutenants Crawford and Morton, both of whom had been doing excellent and arduous work against the hostile bands during the previous summer.

I have already remarked that during this practice march all the members of our command learned General Crook, but of far greater consequence than that was the fact that he learned his officers and men. He was the most untiring and indefatigable man I ever met; and, whether climbing up or down the rugged face of some rocky cañon, facing sun or rain, never appeared to be in the slightest degree distressed or annoyed. No matter what happened in the camp, or on the march, he knew it; he was always awake and on his feet the moment the cook of the pack-train was aroused to prepare the morning meal, which was frequently as early as two o’clock, and remained on his feet during the remainder of the day. I am unable to explain exactly how he did it, but I can assure my readers that Crook learned, while on that march, the name of every plant, animal, and mineral passed near the trail, as well as the uses to which the natives put them, each and all; likewise the habits of the birds, reptiles, and animals, and the course and general character of all the streams, little or big. The Indians evinced an awe for him from the first moment of their meeting; they did not seem to understand how it was that a white man could so quickly absorb all that they had to teach.

In the character of General Crook there appeared a very remarkable tenderness for all those for whose care he in any manner became responsible; this tenderness manifested itself in a way peculiar to himself, and, as usual with him, was never made the occasion or excuse for parade. He was at all times anxious to secure for his men while on campaign all the necessaries of life, and to do that he knew from his very wide experience that there was nothing to compare to a thoroughly organized and well-equipped pack-train, which could follow a command by night or by day, and into every locality, no matter how rocky, how thickly wooded, or how hopelessly desert. He made the study of pack-trains the great study of his life, and had always the satisfaction of knowing that the trains in the department under his control were in such admirable condition, that the moment trouble was threatened in other sections, his pack-trains were selected as being best suited for the most arduous work. He found the nucleus ready to hand in the system of pack-transportation which the exigencies of the mining communities on the Pacific coast had caused to be brought up from Chili, Peru, and the western States of the Mexican Republic.

The fault with these trains was that they were run as money-making concerns, and the men, as well as the animals belonging to them, were in nearly every case employed as temporary makeshifts, and as soon as the emergency had ended were discharged. The idea upon which Crook worked, and which he successfully carried out, was to select trains under the pack-masters who had enjoyed the widest experience, and were by nature best adapted to the important duties they would be called upon to perform. Those who were too much addicted to alcoholic stimulants, or were for other cause unsuited, were as opportunity presented replaced by better material. As with the men, so with the animals; the ill-assorted collections of bony giants and undersized Sonora “rats,” whose withers were always a mass of sores and whose hoofs were always broken and out of sorts, were as speedily as possible sold off or transferred to other uses, and in their places we saw trains of animals which in weight, size and build, were of the type which experience had shown to be most appropriate.

The “aparejos,” or pack-cushions, formerly issued by the quartermaster’s department, had been burlesques, and killed more mules than they helped in carrying their loads. Crook insisted upon having each mule provided with an “aparejo” made especially for him, saying that it was just as ridiculous to expect a mule to carry a burden with an ill-fitting “aparejo” as it would be to expect a soldier to march comfortably with a knapsack which did not fit squarely to his back and shoulders. Every article used in these pack-trains had to be of the best materials, for the very excellent reason that while out on scout, it was impossible to replace anything broken, and a column might be embarrassed by the failure of a train to arrive with ammunition or rations—therefore, on the score of economy, it was better to have all the very best make in the first place.

According to the nomenclature then in vogue in pack-trains, there were to be placed upon each mule in due order of sequence a small cloth extending from the withers to the loins, and called from the office it was intended to perform, the “suadera,” or sweat-cloth. Then came, according to the needs of the case, two or three saddle blankets, then the “aparejo” itself—a large mattress, we may say, stuffed with hay or straw—weighing between fifty-five and sixty-five pounds, and of such dimensions as to receive and distribute to best advantage all over the mule’s back the burden to be carried which was known by the Spanish term of “cargo.” Over the “aparego,” the “corona,” and over that the “suvrinhammer,” and then the load or “cargo” evenly divided so as to balance on the two sides. In practice, the “corona” is not now used, except to cover the “aparejo” after reaching camp, but there was a time way back in Andalusia and in the Chilean Andes when the heart of the “arriero” or muleteer, or “packer,” as he is called in the dreadfully prosy language of the quartermaster’s department, took the greatest delight in devising the pattern, quaint or horrible, but always gaudy and in the gayest of colors, which should decorate and protect his favorite mules. I do not know how true it is, but “Chileno John” and others told me that the main service expected of the “corona” was to enable the “arriero” who couldn’t read or write to tell just where his own “aparejos” were, but of this I am unable to say anything positively.

The philological outrage which I have written phonetically as “suvrin-hammer” would set devout Mohammedans crazy were they to know of its existence; it is a base corruption of the old Hispano-Moresque term “sobre-en-jalma,”—over the jalma,—the Arabic word for pack-saddle, which has wandered far away, far from the date-palms of the Sahara, and the rippling fountains of Granada, to gladden the hearts and break the tongues of Cape Cod Yankees in the Gila Valley. In the same boat with it is the Zuni word “Tinka” for the flux to be used in working silver; it is a travelled word, and first saw the light in the gloomy mountain ranges of far-off Thibet, where it was pronounced “Tincal” or “Atincal,” and meant borax; thence, it made its way with caravans to and through Arabia and Spain to the Spanish settlements in the land of the West. Everything about a pack-train was Spanish or Arabic in origin, as I have taken care to apprise my readers in another work, but it may be proper to repeat here that the first, as it was the largest organized pack-train in history, was that of fifteen thousand mules which Isabella the Catholic called into the service of the Crown of Castile and Leon at the time she established the city of Santa Fé in the “Vega,” and began in good earnest the siege of Granada.

One could pick up not a little good Spanish in a pack-train in the times of which I speak—twenty-one years ago—and there were many expressions in general use which preserved all the flavor of other lands and other ideas. Thus the train itself was generally known as the “atajo;” the pack-master was called the “patron;” his principal assistant, whose functions were to attend to everything pertaining to the loads, was styled “cargador;” the cook was designated the “cencero,” from the fact that he rode the bell-mare, usually a white animal, from the superstition prevailing among Spanish packers that mules liked the color white better than any other.